Chapter 6 - A New Dawn on the Cliff
Six months later, the Salvati estate looked different.
The security cameras were upgraded, the staff had received a generous structural pay increase—led by Teddy, who was now studying finance at night with tuition covered by the estate’s educational foundation—and the dark cloud of political corruption that had once hovered over the Newport coastline had been thoroughly washed away by the Atlantic tides.
I sat behind the massive mahogany desk in the private study, the very desk where Mr. Salvati had once reviewed the vault logs.
My laptop was open to the master inventory ledger, green checkmarks lining up neatly down the screen.
The double doors opened, and Mr. Salvati walked in, carrying two cups of fresh black coffee. He set one down beside my keyboard, taking a seat in the leather chair opposite the desk.
“The federal prosecutor’s office just finalized the Calloway indictment settlements,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee. “Margaret took a plea deal—three years in a minimum-security facility upstate. Her husband is facing federal conspiracy charges for misuse of campaign funds.”
I didn't feel triumphant. I didn't feel angry.
I just felt quiet. The kind of quiet that comes when a debt is finally settled and the ghosts are put to rest.
“Good,” I said simply.
Mr. Salvati studied me for a long moment over the rim of his ceramic mug. The morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the vast estate, the crashing waves below the cliffs, and the endless horizon stretching out toward the open sea.
“You know, Clara,” he said, a quiet warmth in his voice, “when I first hired you, I thought I was just getting a very competent house manager.”
“And what do you think now?” I asked, looking up from my screen, meeting his gaze with absolute confidence.
May you like
Mr. Salvati smiled, a genuine expression that reached all the way to his dark eyes.
“I think I bought the entire cliff.”
